


Where Strength Lies

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, begging kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t know what else to do on the other side of this tension but cautiously seek out his brother’s pulse. Remind himself that this is real.</p><p>Originally written in 2009 for Rounds of Kink with the prompt from Clair_de_Lune, “Do whatever you want with me. Tonight, don’t take no for an answer.”; Begging or offering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Strength Lies

It’s the way that Michael goes from boneless to a livewire in his arms when Lincoln kisses down his neck. He’s hesitant at first, Lincoln is, his heart beating out of his chest with anticipation and fear and fully expecting to be nursing a busted jaw for however long it takes his little brother to knock him into unconsciousness.

But he’s convinced – almost – when Michael responds with an open palm rather than a fist. Long fingers skim over his scalp and cup his cheek, not guiding or conversely pushing him away, but just holding. Michael smells like clean laundry and bourbon; Lincoln breathes him in, the familiar cloaking him, giving him the courage that his brother is currently oozing from his refined pores.

He doesn’t know what else to do on the other side of this tension but cautiously seek out his brother’s pulse. Remind himself that this is real. After all of this time and endless aborted, fearful energy. Finally…he mouths the word silently into Michael’s neck and feels the rhythm accelerate under his lips. Finally.

Lincoln’s hands are already working the buttons of Michael’s starch stiff shirt, his big fingers slipping over the delicate pearl as if they are coated in oil.

Any other time, any other person, Lincoln would tease about their inactivity. But not Michael. He knows what this took and the words are still ringing in his ears. Reverberating off of what little is left of his heart and driving him forward and up. Michael follows his lead, standing when with a gentle tug and staying still as Lincoln gathers his bearings. Lincoln looks his fill.

Pale skin accented with brilliant blue eyes and lips kissed to blushing pink. Hair darker and richer than his own. Strong slim neck and shoulders clad in the finest linen. Lincoln stares until he can feel Michael staring back. Until he knows that if he looks up from the long fingers he’s holding, he’d see an embarrassed blush followed by a flash of banked interest. He’s seen it, felt it, a hundred times and has only had the opportunity to do something this once.

Lincoln’s never been a cautious man.

The trek to the bedroom is spent stripping them both. It could be any other day in that aspect. They’ve both watched the other lose clothes from the front door to the bathroom after a long hard day. They’ve both helped the other pull off a clingy tie or fastened cuff until one becomes more clothed than the other and propriety steps in to make the moment uncomfortable.

A step beyond comes when Michael sits on Lincoln’s ruffled sheets and watches, waits patiently as the older man takes off his pants then rolls his briefs down his legs. The step morphs into a leap when Michael rubs at his boxer trapped cock and leans forward to lick Lincoln’s bobbing head.

He snaps his eyes shut, Lincoln has to or else. Michael’s soft hands encase his hips and drag him forward just as he feels moist heat trail down his belly to flirt with the base of his cock. Lincoln balls his hands into fists trying not to react too strongly to his brother’s seeking, novice mouth.

Michael presses the spongy tip against his lips with a steadying hand around Lincoln’s cock, the slightest pressure, and then Lincoln can’t hold back a drawn out moan of encouragement once he’s inside.

He lets Michael have his fun for long minutes, desperately trying to be still and not pump his hips into that sinful mouth until his little brother’s gagging on his length like he’s dreamt of sometimes - like he’s wished for when they’re both at each others throats with recriminations and borderline hatred. Michael’s newly born to this, licking then sucking lightly, gently, testing always of Lincoln’s patience.

There’s very little to be said about patience, only some annoying anecdote related to virtues, but in Lincoln’s estimation there’s plenty said about taking what you want.

Michael’s piteous little moan as Lincoln backs away just about cracks the emergency glass Lincoln keeps between rationality and his base instincts. So as he pushes Michael down onto the bed and holds him there with a heavy hand and heavier look, Lincoln bites out, “You said whatever I want.”

He leaves it at that. It’s not an apology but Michael’s body relaxes once more, his eyes trusting even as Lincoln straddles his torso then his head. Even as Lincoln taps Michael’s mouth with his cock until it opens to let him in again.

The slide in is all the more pleasurable for the look in his brother’s eye. Accepting, welcoming, and if Lincoln wasn’t riding so high from this moment that he’s about to swear off drugs, he’d be suspicious as hell. But then again, Michael said to do whatever he wanted and right now…

“Goddamn!” Michael’s too good at this. Sucking and pulling him deeper like he can’t get enough. He cranes his neck back into the bed and a few flicks of his tongue have Lincoln on the edge of coming. He has to debate with himself to pull away and taste the mouth he’s just been in rather than let this end too soon.

Even in that Michael’s someone, something else entirely. Lincoln thinks he has a good handle on this. He fixes his mouth on his brother’s with the intention of getting him breathless and crazy, stripping the last of his reticence with Michael’s unwavering eagerness. Instead he’s grasping for the bed sheets, Michael’s shoulders, his neck, anything to keep himself from flying to pieces as his brother wrests control, forcing his mouth open with a stinging bite to his bottom lip and a swift tongue. A tickle on the roof of his mouth and Lincoln can feel himself shaking.

 

Again, he forces his body to do the impossible and pull away. “Wait, Mike.”

His brother isn’t paying attention, limbs like an octopus, and Lincoln doesn’t think before he’s rough housing Michael’s hands away and turning the younger man onto his stomach.

“Link,” Michael mumbles, his mouth pressed into the bedding. “What?”

Lincoln’s focus is laser guided to the width of Michael’s shoulders under his hands, the sweet curve of his spine as it trails lower. His mouth actually waters at the gentle swell of Michael’s ass. “No. Hush.”

Michael’s snort is loud in the room. “Hush?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted.” Lincoln reiterates. “Not to take no for an answer. Were you lying?”

Lincoln can feel the slump of Michael’s shoulders under his hands. “No, of course not. I wasn’t going to say no.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

Lincoln’s already moving on, sliding his hands down to Michael’s ass and revealing the dark pucker. He blows on the tight muscle and whatever Michael mutters is twirled into a high exclamation. He licks and his brother writhes, pushing his lean body back into Lincoln’s mouth.

Michael’s rich on his tongue like hops and honey. Lincoln wants inside, is almost delirious with the need to feel that tiny hole expand and welcome him in like Michael’s mouth. He teases and presses at the smallest give then plunders inside; pushing with his whole body, breathing hot through a nose wedged in the heart of his brother’s encompassing scent.

Michael shouts something but that doesn’t matter. Lincoln isn’t going to stop his invasion even when he pulls away to replace his tongue with one finger then two. Although from this angle he gets to see the dark head thrashing on a neck almost too slender to support the abuse. He gets to see the body-wide tremors cease almost simultaneously as he gets to his knees and reaches across the bed for the lube in his nightstand.

“So you’ve done this before,” Michael says from under him.

Lincoln coats his fingers. “Lube can be used for any number of things, but yeah. Once or twice.”

Michael clears his voice. “Who?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Lincoln mutters behind Michael’s ear, kissing the skin before running slick fingers over Michael’s ass. There’s still resistance but the digits slide in and open Michael wide.

Michael squirms. “You shouldn’t bother with this. Just do it.”

Lincoln sighs and stops, pulls out his fingers and shifts away entirely. He misses the warmth of Michael’s body immediately but has something to settle first. “Repeat what you said to me before.”

“What?” Michael hisses.

“Before you kissed me at the door, what did you say?” Lincoln asks like a parent to his child.

Michael’s eyes flash in the near darkness. “Linc,” He stops when he takes a look at Lincoln then closes his eyes. “I said not to take no for answer. To do whatever you want with me. I just thought-,”

Lincoln waits for Michael to open his eyes again, gets confirmation of what his brother actually thought and purses his lips. His hands shake minutely before he puts them on Michael, turning him onto his back roughly and resuming his previous position between his legs. He doesn’t bother to prep Michael any further, just slicks his cock with the remainder of the lube, and guides himself into his brother’s ass.

Michael lets out a harsh breath through is nose, his chest heaves as Lincoln shoves his way in dispassionately. The younger man is struggling with the pain but silent and Lincoln watches until he’s fully inside then stops, leans over Michael as he adjusts.

Then he thrusts, harshly. Once, twice, and Michael cries out, his body as hard as a statue.

Lincoln stops and Michael turns his head from the force of his glare. “This is what you want isn’t it? Me making you hurt? Fucking you hard, like I don’t care? Like I don’t love you?”

“I--,” Michael licks his lips and meets Lincoln’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Lincoln shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Just let me…” He presses his lips to Michael’s and delves deep, thrusting his tongue in tandem with his cock.

Michael groans but it doesn’t sound painful. He returns the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around Lincoln’s neck and encouraging his thrusts with his own.

Lincoln loses himself in tangy smell of their sweat, the slickness of their bodies. Michael’s gasps and groans are starbursts of sensation, driving him harder, further into sweet heat until Lincoln’s holding Michael’s hips tight, mindless yet very focused.

He takes Michael’s hard cock in hand and pumps ruthlessly, Michael crying out below him and curling into him with the sudden stimulation. When his brother pulses over his hand, Lincoln watches his face, the sightless eyes and rictus of shock, the shaking that starts in Michael’s legs and spreads everywhere.

It’s enough to bring him to the brink, the nearly too tight body underneath him dragging him the rest of the way over into oblivion.

Michael’s hand on his face snaps him back to reality. Lincoln figures that he’s rather heavy and rolls off the younger man only to have Michael pull him back into his side.

The hand tucked between them is coated with Michael’s come and their bodies are even worse but neither moves. Lincoln can still feel the speedy thump of Michael’s heart under his ear and he’s pleased, sated, but the curiosity he put aside before creeps upon him again.

“Why, Mike? Why now?”

Michael jerks like he was falling asleep. Lincoln hears him swallow thickly, his brother’s arm flexes tighter around his shoulders. There are tears in his voice and Lincoln knows that there won’t be any answers tonight, but there will be tomorrow.

“Why not?”

END


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